The Ugly Sweater Party
by Littleotter73
Summary: When Giles asks Buffy to help him co-host the ugly sweater party, he also asks her be his date, but a series of miscommunications threaten to put a stop to their budding relationship before it can even begin.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Buffy looks up from her monitor as Giles knocks on the doorframe and enters her office. "Hey," she greets with a smile, tilting her head in question when she notes his telltale unsure posture: shoulders hunched, head tilted down, and hands shoved firmly in his pockets. "What's up?"

"I… erm… I haven't heard back from you…"

Confusion washes over her face as she frantically tries to remember what deliverable she might have missed. She's been busy processing the large group of new Slayers Willow had identified and Xander had collected and brought back to London over the last month. Securing housing and educational facilities for all the Slayers over the past year hasn't been easy, never mind having to deal with the addition of a group of sixteen newbies months ahead of the finished renovation of the Academy near Bristol.

"I'm sorry?" she finally asks, unable to figure out what he is talking about.

"The party…" Giles leaves the clue hanging as he slowly approaches her desk and sits down in the chair opposite.

"Oh… oh! The… uh… sweater thing!"

He nods and rubs the back of his neck. He's clearly uncomfortable. She'd completely forgotten about the invitation. "Yes, a-a Christmas jumper party, or as you Americans would call it, an ugly sweater party. It's become tradition recently… well, not _my_ tradition… although, I-I suppose now it could be should people enjoy it… but I thought perhaps as…" He looks away to gather a little courage before resuming, "I thought as Head Watcher and Slayer we could-"

Buffy smiles brightly at his fumbling about. He's nothing if not adorable when he is all shy and unassuming.

"Hey, Giles," she interrupts. "I'd love to help you host _and_ be your plus one. What time should I show up to help with the prep?"

His relief is palpable and his smile lights up his face. "Does six work for you?"

"Perfect."


	2. Chapter 2

Coincidences

With his nerves creating havoc and causing him to second-guess himself, Giles tries to ignore the doubts swirling in his head and styles his hair in a sort of rakish mess. Once finished, he stares at his reflection in the mirror. He looks ridiculous and, though he knows that is the point, he can't help but groan at the hideous red and green jumper with the bells and snowflakes patterned through it.

Had that been the extent of it, perhaps he'd feel a bit more comfortable, but the addition of the giant Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer appliqué on the front complete with the light up, blinking red nose truly is the epitome of tacky. But in the spirit of the season and the theme of the party, tacky is the point.

Not that he would be taking home a prize for his efforts as host of the party… or co-host rather.

He takes a deep breath, stands straighter, and fusses with his hair a bit more. The barber cut it a bit shorter than he cares for and a grunt of disapproval escapes his throat at his attempts to style it properly.

Usually he revels in dressing up. Masquerades, Halloween parties, plays in school and at university. But this occasion is different. For this party he'd asked Buffy to help him co-host. He'd also asked her if she would accompany him as his date… in a round about and overly convoluted way, made worse for having broached the idea in the lift at the office when she'd been completely absorbed in some crisis and overwhelmed by a hard deadline.

At her look of confusion and incredulity at the timing of his request, he'd quickly mumbled an apology and told her he would speak with her later. A week had passed before he'd gathered enough courage to bring up the topic again with her and she'd smiled and replied that she would love to help him host and be his plus one.

Plus one. Giles stops his nervous primping at the connotation of the words.

"Plus one, you… _berk!"_ he growls to himself. It's definitely not the same thing as a date.

Anyone can be a plus one. Sister. Brother. Business partner. _Friend_. Eying himself in the mirror, hair greying faster than he'd like, he notes the diamond stud in his left ear and relegates himself to that hated category he'd once placed himself in to deliberately distance himself from her. "Rakish uncle," he sighs - a role he certainly never wanted to play in her life. As his eyes fall to the ridiculous reindeer with the winking red nose on his torso, Giles amends his statement. "Complete and utter _fool!"_ he chides himself.

He gives up his attempts at taming both his hair and his doubts and checks his watch. Buffy should arrive in just about-

The doorbell rings and he is out of time.

"Moment of truth, old boy," he states, and in one last effort to psyche himself up, he pulls off the hated sweater and deposits it on the back of the sofa in the lounge. He'll put it on just before the rest of the guests are due to arrive.

His mood lightens with every step as he makes his way towards the door. The nerves that had been clattering through his stomach change to a sort of giddy excitement and by the time he reaches for the handle on the door, his smile reaches his eyes. Yes, he is totally besotted.

Buffy stands before him in her black wool coat and a red and black cap with a festive holly broach holding several shopping bags. "Hi, Giles." Her smile lights up his world. "Wow, loving this look you have going on and I really like your hair short like that!"

Giles beams at her compliment. Perhaps he'll get used to his hair at this new length, and he's pleased that he'd chosen to wear the white button down shirt that he'd tucked neatly into black jeans with a subtle red patterned tie dotted with white snowflakes. He hadn't been sure whether it would be too much to dress up beneath the sweater.

"Thank you." Giles quickly moves to take the bags from her and kisses her cheek in greeting. It's not something he ever would have dared before the destruction of Sunnydale, but things have changed significantly for them over the past year and half and it just feels natural. "What have you brought?" he asks placing the bags down to help her with her coat.

She's not wearing a Christmas sweater either, and she looks lovely in her red wool plaid skirt that falls to just above her knees and a white jersey turtleneck. Her long hair falls in waves over her shoulders and she takes his breath away.

"Some hors d'oeuvres, a few decorations, and a bottle of bubbly that is desperately in need of chilling," she answers as he goes to hang her coat on the rack. She picks up one of the bags and heads to the kitchen, passing the lounge on the way.

"Oh… uh… snap."

"What is it?" he asks as he catches up with her.

Buffy is stopped in front of the sofa where Rudolph's nose jauntily blinks on the front of the hated jumper. Her brows are knitted and she looks vexed. "Is that… what you are wearing tonight?"

"Erm… er… I had been planning on it."

"Oh boy!" She reaches into the bag she's holding and holds up the sweater she brought to wear.

His eyes fall to the appliqué of the most famous reindeer of all complete with light-up nose gracing the front of the red and green garment, patterned with bells and snowflakes. He blinks owlishly, in utter disbelief that they have chosen the exact same jumper to wear to the party.

"Well, that is…" Giles, color rising over his neck and cheeks, is without a clue with how to end that statement.

"Uh…yeah…" There is a small, nervous smile tugging at her lips. "Gotta say, this is a first."

"Maybe people won't notice," he suggests and silently berates himself for saying something so stupid.

She looks like she wants to laugh at his naïveté. Instead she gestures at the hideous reindeer and the blinking red lights on their noses. "How do you figure that?"

Trying to make the best of an utterly embarrassing situation, he says, "W-well… people will be mingling and chatting and, of course eating and drinking. Oh! And as… as co-hosts, we probably won't be in the same place at the same time very often."

Her eyes widen at his comment and she places the sweater next to his on the sofa and shrugs. "Oh… I guess." Picking up the shopping bag, she quickly heads towards the kitchen. "No big deal, then."

He can hear the disappointment in her voice and, knowing he's somehow made a hash of things, internally curses the absolute appalling start to the evening.


	3. Chapter 3

Conclusions

As she takes the mini-quiches out of the oven, Buffy notes that it has been twenty minutes since she'd left Giles in the living room with the sweaters. She huffs in mild annoyance. This certainly wasn't what she was expecting when she'd accepted his invitation to co-host the party.

When Giles finally enters the kitchen he pulls a box of puff pastry from the fridge. "I'm sorry," he says, placing box down on the island.

"For what?" she asks in exasperation as she plates the hors d'oeuvres onto the serving dish.

"I…" Honestly, he's not entirely sure, but he does know the damned jumper is the catalyst. "I won't wear the sweater," he finally replies, though it isn't an answer to her question.

"Oh, hell no. If I have to wear that ugly thing, you have to too!" she insists.

He's confused, but nods in compliance. "All right."

Buffy stops what she's doing and looks Giles in the eyes. "I just thought… when you asked me to co-host, that you…" She lowers her eyes to avoid his gaze. "I thought that you wanted to do this together."

"I do!" he insists, perhaps a little more forcefully than necessary; and suddenly he realizes the issue. "I am sorry, Buffy." His voice is sincere and he places his hand over hers. When she raises her eyes to meet his, he gives her hand a gentle squeeze. "I was just trying to spare you the embarrassment of wearing matching sweaters. I didn't mean to imply that we should avoid each other all evening. I don't want that at all."

"Good, because I don't either."

"Good," he agrees and removes his hand to begin work on the puff pastry appetizers.

She watches him as he pulls out various ingredients from the fridge before adding, "For the record, I think it's kinda neat how out of all the ridiculously tacky sweaters, we somehow manage to pick out the same one."

"Seems rather uncanny," he agrees.

"What do you think that says about us?" she asks as she finds another baking sheet in the cabinet next to the oven.

"That we have horrible taste in holiday wear," he responds dryly and she laughs.

Between preparing food in the kitchen and decorating the house, Buffy and Giles find themselves in sync and on comfortable ground together, and occasionally their banter crosses over into flirting territory, but as guests arrive and comments are made regarding their matching attire, their comfort level with one another starts to fade as mutual embarrassment sets in. Things take an unfortunate downward spiral when Jeremy Scott, a burly, Port-faced Afrikaner who recently joined the Board of Directors, voices his loud assumptions about their relationship. As Giles corrects their guest, Buffy excuses herself to go talk to Vi and Alex, who have just arrived.

She finds him in the kitchen a little later. "Hey, are there anymore of the prosciutto and date thingies? We're running low." She hasn't seen him in at least ten minutes or so, but then she's been mingling with the latest arrival of guests. She notices that he's removed the ugly reindeer sweater and he's loosened his red tie with the white snowflakes. Evidently he's been hiding out in the kitchen for a while.

Giles walks over to the warming drawer, grabs the tray, and forcefully removes the tin foil. "There you go."

"Thanks," she replies, setting the tray down on the counter. Clearly he's upset. "Are you all right, Giles?"

"Dandy," he replies, but his tone indicates that he is anything but.

"Is this because of the thing Jeremy said?" she asks. She's definitely not a fan of Jeremy Scott. He'd been one of Quentin Travers' appointees and headed up the Council's offices in Cape Town.

"Jeremy… and others," Giles sighs, pulling off his glasses and setting them down on the countertop. "After you left to speak with Vi, he had the gall to imply that we are sleeping together and whether it's… let's just say he's interested in your performance levels." He doesn't tell her the other lewd things the man had said.

"Ugh, what a creep!" she exclaims. "Honestly, though, who cares what he thinks? He's a dirty old man."

Giles' eyes meet hers, his gaze serious. "He's not the only one who thinks so." A moment of silence beats between them as he takes an interest in a flaw in the granite before muttering, "Perhaps all this wasn't a good idea."

"I guess not," Buffy agrees, tucking her hands into her pockets. Her experience wouldn't have been much different had she come to the party alone, she just wouldn't have had to help host the event.

He doesn't really know how to respond to her comment, though he's not happy she agreed with him so readily, so he opts to vent his frustration with himself, "I didn't think about how this might look. I am sorry."

"Giles, you asked me to co-host a party _at your house._ How did you expect it to look?"

"As though the Head Slayer and Watcher are hosting a holiday party for the headquarters staff."

Buffy stares incredulously at him. "Even without the matching sweaters, it doesn't look like that," she informs him. "Look, I'm not pleased that a creeper like Jeremy is making comments like that, but it doesn't surprise me that people would assume we're… all couple-y."

"I shoved him against a wall and strongly suggested he leave."

"Jeremy?" she asks and he nods. "Good!" she exclaims, adding, "Man, I wish I had seen that!"

He grimaces as he puts his glasses back on, knowing he shouldn't have let his emotions take over. "Not my best showing. We need his votes on the board."

"Not really wanting to talk shop right now, but we really, _really_ don't."

"He could try and sway votes against our agenda."

"Let him try. Giles… have faith in what we are doing… have faith in _us._ "

He sighs and leans back against the counter.

"Is it so bad to have people think we are together?"

"N-no!" he answers with a little more force than he'd intended.

Buffy takes a seat at the breakfast table. She doesn't look at him when she finally asks, "Why did you bother to ask me to be your date when all you wanted was to host a holiday party for the staff?"

Hearing the sadness in her voice, Giles walks over and kneels before her, placing his hand over hers. His soft green eyes meet hers. "I-I rather thought it wasn't a date."

"Oh," There is a note of grave disappointment in her voice and she looks away again. "In the elevator you'd said date."

Giles takes a deep breath. "I did, but when I asked you again about the party last week, you had used the term 'plus one.' Anyone can go as a plus one, Buffy, it doesn't have romantic connotations, so I thought... you just wanted to keep the status quo between us and co-host the party as friends."

"Poor choice of words," she mutters, still unable to look at him.

He tilts his head to make eye contact. "To answer your question, I asked you to be my date because... I have developed certain feelings for you and I thought it might be a fun way for us to spend time _together,"_ he explains. "In retrospect, this certainly isn't the ideal venue for a first date. Perhaps had we sorted out expectations earlier or things not gone quite so tits up with the matching sweaters."

"I thought we'd gotten over the matching sweaters before the party started."

"I handled the situation badly," he admits, getting up to sit in the chair next to hers. "You mean the world to me, Buffy, and having to field questions about our relationship when I don't know how you feel-"

"I wouldn't have said yes if I didn't have feelings for you too, Giles," she admits, taking his hand in hers and lacing their fingers together. "But pretending around the guests that we aren't… I don't know… that you have no interest in me at all when you asked me on a date... that really hurt."

Giles skews his eyes closed for a moment. Hurting her is the last thing he ever wants to do. "I seem to be doing that a lot this evening. I am sorry. If I could do it all over again, Buffy, I'd ask to take you on an outing somewhere followed by a romantic dinner at a fancy restaurant."

"That sounds really nice, but honestly, I'd be happy with just dinner. I wonder if the guests would notice if we skipped out for a while."

"We can't-"

"Why not?"

Giles looks at his watch. "There is only an hour left before the party ends, how about a late dinner after?"

"Perfect," she responds with a smile.

He pulls his phone from his pocket to make a call to a restaurant. "I hope you like French cuisine," he says after placing the reservation.

"Love it," Buffy states with a smile, getting up from the table. "We should probably be social until then."

"Probably," he agrees, taking her hand. "Together."

"Hey, Giles?" Buffy asks when they reach the hall.

"Yes?"

Raising her eyes, she says, "Look up."

"Who put that there?" he murmurs, knowing Buffy must have hung the sprig of mistletoe there when she was decorating earlier.

"I wonder," she replies with an impish smile as her hands run up his chest.

Cupping her cheek, he leans down and brushes his lips over hers in gentle touches before deepening the kiss. When it ends, they both sigh in unison and he leans his forehead against hers.

"Better than I have ever imagined," Giles whispers.

"Definitely," she agrees and lets out a little laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"The winking light from the Rudolph's nose."

He lets out a little chuckle and fingers the hem of the sweater. "Let's take that ridiculous thing off, shall we?"

"Why, Mr Giles, right here, right now?"

"Minx," he states, his voice low and sultry.

Buffy pulls off the sweater and grabs his hand. "We can burn these later. Come on, let's go mingle."

Giles groans in protest and wraps his arms around her from behind. "Perhaps we can skip out," he suggests. "It's a beautiful night, we could walk to the restaurant and grab a drink before hand. Just the two of us."

"Tempting though it may be, we need to see this through."

A sigh of disappointment escapes his throat. "You're right, of course. See if I ever ask you to co-host again."

The teasing in his voice warms her heart and she turns in his arms to look up into his eyes. "Oh, I am sure we'll do a lot of co-hosting in the future."

"I'm looking forward to it," he replies as their lips meet once again under the mistletoe.

XxXxXxXxXx

Author's Notes: Special thanks to il_mio_capitano and Quaggy for their input and beta efforts!


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